Desperate to be a Eunuch

[tugon (imported)]

Be a girl or a new boy!

While listening to a young person's tale of abuse I was taken back to a time in my life. A time before I realized I had been sexually abused. A time I was struggling with who I was. I have mentioned several times before about wondering if I should have been a girl. I later realized that was not for me. During that time there had been another option I thought about that I had not remembered until this Thursday.

Hearing how the grandfather had touched her vagina many times my first thought was I hope one day in life she will be able to enjoy someone else touching it. I had this thought because one of my remaining issues is the inability to enjoy anyone touching my penis.

What I then remembered was a desire to be a boy. I did not want to be a boy in my body but I wanted to be in a completely new body. I imagined the body I would like to live in. The body was fairly average and no desire for physical perfection or great looks. I just wanted to be an average boy. My dream to be a boy in a body that did not feel creepy to me. Having no clue as to why I felt this way I would dream of this for a period of time. I knew becoming a girl was possible but becoming a new boy was not.

Once I remembered I had those feelings years ago I smiled at the thought I had made myself new. As I stated in my previous thread events happen to remind me how good my life is now and how I have grown and changed. I also felt I had gotten in touch with my inner child and together we could share the happiness of the new us.

I want to thank everyone who reads my posts and thanks to those who respond and give support. I would also like to thank the young lady whose pain and suffering triggered this memory. I hope she can find peace.

[Danya (imported)]

Last night was my anniversary of becoming a eunuch. I have been a eunuch for 11 years now. Becoming a eunuch was also the impetus to end a negative situation in which I had found myself trapped. 12/06/97 was the beginning of my new life.

......

In the times of quiet and beauty, in the times of the warmth of friendship I realize I am exactly who I want to be. I am not perfect and I still struggle with the past from time to time but I am healed and I am one. Life began 11 years ago when I became my true self. I thank everyone who has helped me on my journey and I wish everyone the happiness and peace, I have found, for them on their journey.

Dear Tugon,

Belated anniversary wishes, my friend. You are a beautiful person and I am delighted I have had th

e chance to get to know you.

Be a girl or a new boy!

What I then remembered was a desire to be a boy. I did not want to be a boy in my body but I wanted to be in a completely new body. I imagined the body I would like to live in. The body was fairly average and no desire for physical perfection or great looks. I just wanted to be an average boy. My dream to be a boy in a body that did not feel creepy to me. Having no clue as to why I felt this way I would dream of this for a period of time. I knew becoming a girl was possible but becoming a new boy was not.

Once I remembered I had those feelings years ago I smiled at the thought I had made myself new. As I stated in my previous thread events happen to remind me how good my life is now and how I have grown and changed. I also felt I had gotten in touch with my inner child and together we could share the happiness of the new us.

I want to thank everyone who reads my posts and thanks to those who respond and give support. I would also like to thank the young lady whose pain and suffer

ing triggered this memory. I hope she can find peace.

I am glad you continue to tell your story and that you have reached a point of happiness. You deserve it in abundance.

Hugs,

Danya

[tugon (imported)]

As a no T eunuch I realized how much I still enjoy an orgasm and a good cry. Well not simultaneously, of course. This past weekend I was in a mood and could not sense a cause. Sometimes I am more agressive and this is a sign that I am in need. The two things I have found that bring me out of these states is a sad movie or some hot pictures.

Sunday night I watched "Brokeback Mountain" as a catharsis for a good cry. Several parts of the movie mirror events of my life. I drank my wine and cried at the parts that normally effect me. Of course without anyone around I was able to let it all out. The night before my sister asked me to bring the movie over and we had dinner and watched it. Well I held back many a tear since she and her boyfriend were with me. It was not theraputic Saturday night but watching it Sunday did the trick. I woke up Monday morning in a good mood. Even though I was not sad or depressed I seem to need that release. My dear friend Arturo could not understand why I liked watching things that would make me cry. As a eunuch I just need my tears sometimes.

Another thing I have learned about me as a eunuch is I do not get physically horny very often. I know I need to be taken care of when I am becoming agressive and very impatient. Then it is time to head home, pull out some pictures and self administer the treatment. Then I am back to normal. Well whatever normal is for me. I am surprised that a lack of the occasional orgasm can effect my mood. I am surprised that my body still needs that release in some way. Of course I know that the need for orgasm may be more mental than physical.

After all this time orgasms are still important for me. My emotions are still stronger then before my castration. I guess my two favorite things to adjust my moods are tears and orgasms.

[tugon (imported)]

Dear Dad,

I know you are dead but I wonder if you know who I am. You sent word to me that you had guilt and regrets and wanted to see me. My message in return was that I had some tough questions I needed answered. I was never invited again. You were tough enough to terrorize this little boy but you could not answer this adult's questions. How much courage does it take to beat a little boy or abuse his mother? Oh by the way my older sister who witnessed this also suffers though not directly abused.

One of my early memories of you was when I decided I never wanted to treat anyone the way you treated mother and me. I so did not want to be you and I wonder sometimes if that is what made me not want to be male. If you were considered a man I did not want to be like you. Sadly some of the men I became involved with were very much like you. I was your victim and spent many years being other men's victims. I was your cocksucker and later that is all I thought of myself. I never learned to value myself or have a sense of self in those days. I was easy prey for others like you.

I have a picture of myself as a child. I have this big smile and bright eyes. Like many children I had the look of optimism and wonderment. I lost that for a number of years but I am finding that hope I had lost. I smile most of the time these days. I just wanted to let you know that I have worked hard to regain what you took away from me. As an adult I am having to learn the things I should have learned as a child.

Dad I know from childhood to adulthood you were ashamed of me. You wanted me to be a soldier or a basketball star. The last time I saw you was when my niece was born. You wanted a picture with you and your sons. My brother and I along with brothers-in-law stood up to be in a picture and you told me I was such a good photographer I should take the picture. That was fine with me because I knew you had been denying me for years. I was not listed in your obituary.

Well dad today I am a proud eunuch who is attracted to men. I am nothing like you and I take comfort in that knowledge. Yes I suffered as a victim but I do not have the guilt of being an abuser. I would have forgiven you to your face if you could have faced me. You are forgiven. I wonder if where you are you still deny me as your son.

[Danya (imported)]

Tugon, my good friend.

Seems to me the letter to your Dad was probably very important for you to write, if you haven't done that before. It's well thought out and you say some very important things. Including that you forgive your father and that you are proud of who you are.

Congratulations!

Hugs,

Danya

[plix (imported)]

Dear Dad,

I know you are dead but I wonder if you know who I am. You sent word to me that you had guilt and regrets and wanted to see me. My message in return was that I had some tough questions I needed answered. I was never invited again. You were tough enough to terrorize this little boy but you could not answer this adult's questions. How much courage does it take to beat a little boy or abuse his mother? Oh by the way my older sister who witnessed this also suffers though not directly abused.

One of my early memories of you was when I decided I never wanted to treat anyone the way you treated mother and me. I so did not want to be you and I wonder sometimes if that is what made me not want to be male. If you were considered a man I did not want to be like you. Sadly some of the men I became involved with were very much like you. I was your victim and spent many years being other men's victims. I was your cocksucker and later that is all I thought of myself. I never learned to value myself or have a sense of self in those days. I was easy prey for others like you.

I have a picture of myself as a child. I have this big smile and bright eyes. Like many children I had the look of optimism and wonderment. I lost that for a number of years but I am finding that hope I had lost. I smile most of the time these days. I just wanted to let you know that I have worked hard to regain what you took away from me. As an adult I am having to learn the things I should have learned as a child.

Dad I know from childhood to adulthood you were ashamed of me. You wanted me to be a soldier or a basketball star. The last time I saw you was when my niece was born. You wanted a picture with you and your sons. My brother and I along with brothers-in-law stood up to be in a picture and you told me I was such a good photographer I should take the picture. That was fine with me because I knew you had been denying me for years. I was not listed in your obituary.

Well dad today I am a proud eunuch who is attracted to men. I am nothing like you and I take comfort in that knowledge. Yes I suffered as a victim but I do not have the guilt of being an abuser. I would have forgiven you to your face if you could have faced me. You are forgiven. I wonder if where you are you still deny me as your son.

Getting these feelings out is definitely one of the most important parts of the healing process. While my father did not treat me anywhere near as violently as yours treated you, I too did not get from him the love a son should get from his father. It has hurt me deeply and impacted my life in ways I will probably never fully understand. My father knows how I feel about him, but we pretend I don't feel that way during the one phone call or so I get from him each year. Just like your father, he refuses to face what he did to me. If I want to speak with him, I have to pretend everything is fine. I too think that my experiences with male figures as a child has caused my inability to relate to men and masculinity (though I do recognize myself as male). Although I am male, I will never understand the male mind. Often I wonder if I'd be a normal masculine man today if I just had a father who was there for me. We may never fully understand how development of the mind and personality during childhood work, but it is interesting to think about. I hope we both can find the peace we are searching for. *Hugs*

[Peter47-NL (imported)]

Dear Dad,

I know you are dead but I wonder if you know who I am.

[ - ]

One of my early memories of you was when I decided I never wanted to treat anyone the way you treated mother and me.

[ - ]

I smile most of the time these days. I just wanted to let you know that I have worked hard to regain what you took away from me. As an adult I am having to learn the things I should have learned as a child.

[ - ]

Well dad today I am a proud eunuch who is attracted to men. I am nothing like you and I take comfort in that knowledge. Yes I suffered as a victim but I do not have the guilt of being an abuser. I would have forgiven you to your face if you could have faced me. You are forgiven. I wonder if where you are you still deny me as your son.

Thank you Tugon for sharing this letter to your father.

Much love and hugs,

Peter47-NL

P.S. Much love and hugs for Plix too.

[tugon (imported)]

Danya thanks always for your support and understanding. It was good to get that out. I feel like a fast moving train dumping emotional baggage all along the way.

Plix I am sorry we can relate to each other so well in these matters. I would have wished for you a loving childhood. You are a very kind and caring person. I am proud of you for rising above the examples you were shown.

Peter47-NL thank you for distilling my post down to the positive aspects. After all it is more important what I do with my life than how it started out.

Love and Hugs to you all!

[tugon (imported)]

I have shared a few phrases of this stage in my life but I wanted to write more this Easter season. I have shared much of my pain and issues in life but now I want to share some joy. Easter is fast approaching and I always take this time to remember a very special person. He was a great friend and lover. I want to remember all the good times.

We went to school together and I was always a little infatuated. We were born in the same year but he late in the year so we were in different classes. He was everything I was not. He was confident, outgoing, handsome and athletic. Some people thought he was conceded but it was confidence. He knew himself and his good points but he never felt he was better than anyone else was. I never heard him say a negative thing about anyone. At school I always made sure I would pass him in the halls. Senior year I was the yearbook photographer and he wanted to learn how I process film and print the photo's. I was so glad to teach him. One time we were in the darkroom and I touched his butt and he said I was going to make him gay. Knowing what I had been through I stopped. I still teased him when it was safe. Then while he was studying karate he injured his groin and I still had to tease a little.

I graduated high school and at first we did not see each other as often. Once he turned 18 I would see him in the popular bar for my school. In those days you could drink 3.2 beer at 18. Well one night as I was playing this arcade game involving a flat puck knocking down bowling pins he started to play with my butt much like I did to his in the darkroom. I was getting very warm and flustered and he loved the effect he was having over me. Then he whispered that whoever wins the next game gets a blowjob. I agreed and I won by a wide margin. He said double or nothing and I said no but I would give him a chance to win one. Well at that point I played terribly and he won by a wide margin. We decided to head to my house and go to the basement and make some photographs. Well after a wonderful time we headed upstairs and luckily the family did not ask to see what we printed.

Many great times happened after that first time. One evening he brought his guitar over to play and sing. That evening he wore cutoff jeans and Puma tennis shoes. Anymore clothes than that would have been a crime. The family went out for dinner and I asked them to bring my dinner home. We were sitting on my bed and I went downstairs for the meal. We set on the bed and shared the steak dinner. We used our hands and tore into the steak and it was rather erotic. Of course after dinner we were ready to make prints in the darkroom. Another time we went to the movies and I was very serious back then about social issues and how people are treated. He began to walk like someone crippled and I told him to stop and asked why he was doing it. He said he was imitating the person we just passed. Then I was angry and he just laughed and laughed and reminded me that we had not passed anyone. He was always trying to teach me to lighten up. Oh and he tried to teach me karate because by this time he was a black belt. He told me to hit him and I could not raise a hand to hit him. Then he began to flip me so I would get mad and strike out at him but I just became giggly. That was it for karate.

We were two young men enjoying each other and I was developing strong feelings. I did not have the courage to tell him how I felt. He was still dating girls at the time but I enjoyed our special times together. I took a year off after high school and so he and I started college the same year. He went locally and I went to college about 2 hours away. I always looked forward to seeing him on weekends I was home. Saturday morning I called and asked if we were getting together. He said a cousin was in town that he had not seen for years and could we spend Easter together. I said yes that would be okay. Next he asked me "why did you really call"? For some reason I began to tell him how I felt and he said I made him happy. We talked about an hour and a half, which was long for us on the phone. When he hung up his mother was worried I was having problems. That is when

he told her that he had broken up with his girlfriend and that stage of his life was over. H

is mother always introduced me to her friends as his special friend. Back then special friend meant you were gay or developmentally disabled. When they looked at me I would drool and drag a foot.

He did die that night well early Easter morning. He was coming home from the bar with his cousin and he had a blowout and lost control. The car flipped on its side and the force pinned his cousin to the back seat where he had passed out. The car still on its side slid by a tree, which severed that beautiful young man in half. I spent many yeas wishing it had been the cousin driving and he passed out in the back.

His mother and I became very close. She included me in family functions and the brothers could not figure out why. One time we were at the high school summer festival the year he died and when we saw each other we hugged and both cried and sobbed for what I think was a long time. I wonder how it looked to be among the rides, lights and happy music and two people so obviously heart broken. Several years later we bumped into each other at a grocery store and a song he had played was playing over the musak and we both teared up. As a mother I know she was devastated but she understood and accepted that I was also in great pain. I received more support from her than my own family.

After his death he would come to me at night. We would giggle, kiss and hold each other and I was so happy. Of course the next day I would mourn him all over again. I eventually asked him to stop visiting me and he did. Of course I would love to have one of those night again but he does not come back when I call him. I often wonder if he is back on the earth in another body and life. His memory helped me heal at a time in-between the last time I was raped and when Brian and I would be together. I had a dream of a time in the darkroom where we were holding each other and my arm was around his waist. I remembered how safe I felt with him and how beautiful our short time together was. At that point I knew I could heal and sex would not always be ugly.

Years later his mother was not feeling well. Her husband had been diagnosed with lung cancer but the doctor was just prescribing antibiotics for her. I told her she needed to go to the ER if he was not going to do anything for her. She came to the ER a day after the anniversary of her son's death. I sat down next to her and told her I was thinking about her. Two days later she was leaving with her diagnosis of lung cancer with mets to the brain. I helped her out to the car and as she was getting in she hugged me and told me she loved me. Weeks later she was on the Hospice unit. I went to visit her. The nurse warned me she had slipped into a coma. I went to her room and one of her sons was there. He said his mother was in a coma. Then his mother opened her eyes and said hi to me and asked how I was. She slipped back into coma after that and her son asked me why would his mom come out of a coma to say hi to me and not him. I just shrugged my shoulders.

Now at Easter time I take two red roses to their graves. She said to me once with a smile that every year on the anniversary of his death there was a red rose on his grave. I said oh really. They were both such incredible people in my life and even though they are gone my life is much better because of them. This time of year I enjoy immersing myself in the memories. I will think about what he might look like if he had aged, would we still be together and then I wonder what he would have thought of the twists and turns of my life. I hope one day to find out. I wonder if one day he will ask me what the hell was going on in that motel room.

[Peter47-NL (imported)]

Thank you Tugon for telling this story about your friend. It is so beautiful and sad too. I'm beyond speech - thanks!

Peter47-NL

[Danya (imported)]

...

now I want to share some joy. Easter is fast approaching and I always take this time to remember a very special person. He was a great friend and lover. I want to remember all the good times.

...

Many great times happened after that first time. One evening he brought his guitar over to play and sing. That evening he wore cutoff jeans and Puma tennis shoes. Anymore clothes than that would have been a crime. The family went out for dinner and I asked them to bring my dinner home. We were sitting on my bed and I went downstairs for the meal. We set on the bed and shared the steak dinner. We used our hands and tore into the steak and it was rather erotic. Of course after dinner we were ready to make prints in the darkroom. Another time we went to the movies and I was very serious back then about social issues and how people are treated. He began to walk like someone crippled and I told him to stop and asked why he was doing it. He said he was imitating the person we just passed. Then I was angry and he just laughed and laughed and reminded me that we had not passed anyone. He was always trying to teach me to lighten up. Oh and he tried to teach me karate because by this time he was a black belt. He told me to hit him and I could not raise a hand to hit him. Then he began to flip me so I would get mad and strike out at him but I just became giggly. That was it for karate.

We were two young men enjoying each other and I was developing strong feelings. ...

For some reason I began to tell him how I felt and he said I made him happy. We talked about an hour and a half, which was long for us on the phone. When he hung up his mother was worried I was having problems. That is when

he told her that he had broken up with his girlfr

iend and that stage of his life was over. H

is mother always introduced me to her friends as his special friend. Back then special friend meant you were gay or developmentally disabled. When they looked at me I would drool and drag a foot.

He did die that night well early Easter morning. He was coming home from the bar with his cousin and he had a blowout and lost control. The car flipped on its side and the force pinned his cousin to the back seat where he had passed out. The car still on its side slid by a tree, which severed that beautiful young man in half. I spent many yeas wishing it had been the cousin driving and he passed out in the back.

His mother and I became very close. She included me in family functions and the brothers could not figure out why.

After his death he would come to me at night. We would giggle, kiss and hold each other and I was so happy....

...

Now at Easter time I take two red roses to their graves. She said to me once with a smile that every year on the anniversary of his death there was a red rose on his grave. I said oh really. They were both such incredible people in my life and even though they are gone my life is much better because of them. This time of year I enjoy immersing myself in the memories. I will think about what he might look like if he had aged, would we still be together and then I wonder what he would have thought of the twists and turns of my life. I hope one day to find out. I wonder if one day he will

ask me what the hell was going on in that motel room.

Tugon, my friend, you shared this beautiful story with me months ago and I was moved by it then. It must have been wonderful for you to find acceptance and love with your friend. The love of his mother for you was something, I suspect, that filled another void in your life.

That you still take roses to their graves says a lot about how important they were to you. It also says much about the kind spirit you are.

Hugs,

Danya

[plix (imported)]

*Hugs* Thank you for sharing this story. It is certainly moving. Losing someone so special hurts deeply, but it only makes the times we did have with that person all the more special

[tugon (imported)]

What have I been up to lately? Nothing that I have been accused of in posts. Most nights are spent quietly at home. Tonight for instance I am watching Brokeback Mountain again. Just read the book and need to see the movie.

Of course what has been truly good is a friend has moved in to share the apartment. I have always thought of friends as gifts to my life no matter how long they are in my life. There are times when people have to move on but I am glad for the time they spent. I am glad for what they have shared.

Today is the one month anniversary of Plix moving to Ohio. In his interest in becoming a writer I look forward to reading how he may portray this time in Ohio. He has had his first lessons in Ohio humidity. Our weather with thunderstorms and threats of tornadoes are different than what he has experienced while living in California. Of course if I were in California I would be worried about earthquakes. I think it is natural to be cautious of the unknown and the unfamiliar.

Plix has accomplished much in one month. He has a car, is working and learning the city. Of course the city is smaller than from where he came. Yes there is much adjustment as there would be for any of us that relocate but he is doing well. I am glad he is here and we have enjoyed running around to malls, other cities and the Columbus Zoo.

So Plix I want to say it has been a good month. You are a good friend. I want to welcome you to Ohio for as long as Ohio is good for you. Your life may take you to many states in the pursuit of your career or the love of a good woman might call you away. In the mean time enjoy life and the four seasons of Ohio.

[Danya (imported)]

Dear Tugon,

You , my friend, are a blessing in my life. Plix is so fortunate to have such a good friend, too.

Over the last few weeks, I've had the pleasure of getting to know Plix a bit better. I instantly felt comfortable with him at last year's MoM.

Plix has done a great job in a short time of adjusting to a new life and so quickly finding a job. Of course, it takes time to feel fully comfortable in a new place.

Like so many of us, he's on an important adventure of being true to himself.

Hugs,

Danya

[plix (imported)]

What have I been up to lately? Nothing that I have been accused of in posts. Most nights are spent quietly at home. Tonight for instance I am watching Brokeback Mountain again. Just read the book and need to see the movie.

Of course what has been truly good is a friend has moved in to share the apartment. I have always thought of friends as gifts to my life no matter how long they are in my life. There are times when people have to move on but I am glad for the time they spent. I am glad for what they have shared.

Today is the one month anniversary of Plix moving to Ohio. In his interest in becoming a writer I look forward to reading how he may portray this time in Ohio. He has had his first lessons in Ohio humidity. Our weather with thunderstorms and threats of tornadoes are different than what he has experienced while living in California. Of course if I were in California I would be worried about earthquakes. I think it is natural to be cautious of the unknown and the unfamiliar.

Plix has accomplished much in one month. He has a car, is working and learning the city. Of course the city is smaller than from where he came. Yes there is much adjustment as there would be for any of us that relocate but he is doing well. I am glad he is here and we have enjoyed running around to malls, other cities and the Columbus Zoo.

So Plix I want to say it has been a good month. You are a good friend. I want to welcome you to Ohio for as long as Ohio is good for you. Your life may take you to many states in the pursuit of your career or the love of a good woman might call you away. In the mean time enjoy life and the four seasons of Ohio.

I certainly have come pretty far in the short time I have been here. I would not have been able to do it without you and the friendship you have offered. Thank you for doing all that you have done for me.

I think I am adjusting pretty well to the weather here. I don't think having rain in the summer is as big a deal as I initially feared. I believe I will enjoy observing the turn of the seasons when the time comes.

I hope I have done a good job of keeping you active with all our running around

I look forward to our continuing friendship and the adventures it will bring.

[tugon (imported)]

Sunday, lonely Sunday

I am here all alone with my thoughts. Oh those damned thoughts. On a previous Sunday I would have awakened in a drunken haze knowing I just had to get through the day to my next drunken haze. Even the wine began to sour on my tongue much like the names of past loves. It seems I am not able to hide from my past, present and dubious future.

I have been reading posts about those who are so convinced in their fanatical faiths. I am right and everyone else is wrong. Maybe that can be my next addiction. I can stuff my emotions and memories behind self-righteousness. Maybe I wish I could be so blindly sure of something in this world. A young man I share space with is convinced that people are basically good and I counter with but are capable of great evils. Have I lost my faith in humans?

Next I read a post where someone can freely express their anger over someone who attempted to do them great wrong. I have wondered myself and to others where is my anger? If I found my anger would it overwhelm me? I have much to be angry about beginning from childhood to the age of 46 when I was finally free of abuse. I was never taught to value myself and still do not know if I have achieved a sense of value. I have learned to avoid those who do not value me.

So this Sunday will be a day of doing laundry and grocery shopping. All the while my mind will be jumping from one thought to another. Much like it started as I was scrambling eggs and making toasts. I can at least enjoy my coffee. Oh and I have beautiful art on the walls and beautiful music to take the edge off some of the emotions. Knowing that for my health I will not be able to drink again. At the age of 53 I guess I will be facing life and myself bare, raw without a crutch. Oh shit!

[plix (imported)]

Stopping something that has been familiar and comforting for so long is a challenge, but I am definitely proud of you for being willing to accept it

Oh, to be able to become addicted to something, anything. I wish I knew what that is like.

I do not know who is right and who is wrong when it comes to faith. Chances are we are all both right and wrong to some extent. But those people who seem fanatical are only reaching out to others because they care about them and do not want to see them suffer, and that is what I try to focus on when I encounter such people. It is good to see that people still care about one another, even those they have never met.

One might wonder how I can be such a pessimist when it comes to everything else and yet believe in the basic goodness of humanity, but somehow I manage. Yes, we all are capable of evil, but it is not who we really are. We have to look deeper, beyond the mistakes that we all make. I know I have made my share of them, so how can I bring myself to judge anyone else for their own?

I think you are going to do great in this quest. You will likely notice big improvements in health, both physically and emotionally. I am here to help and support, so you do not have to face anything completely alone

[tugon (imported)]

Travelling out West a strange thing happened to me. As I was leaving a restroom there was a very cute young asian man smiling at me and displaying himself with a big smile on his face. Well by the position of his arms and the diagonal stance from the urinal I think he wanted me to see what he had. Fear set in and I could not look down. I did not even stop to wash my hands. In a panic I got the hell out of there.

During my T days I would have Senator Craig'ed him in the nearest stall. Now I scurry out like a scared rabbit. Then I realized I am still afraid of overt sexual acts. I enjoy looking at pictures of naked men but one in close proximity causes me to turn my head fast enough to get whiplash. This incident reminded me I still have work to do.

The last time I had sex was with B and that was over a year ago. Of course we had a very long and odd history. I had enough pleasant memories and felt safe enough to make love with him. I could not totally relax but I could refrain from panic. The poor man thought he was finding sensitive spots by my reactions but I was flinching.

My last psychologist told me I needed to break the link I have between sex and violence. Many years asshole used his penis to hurt me as well as his fists and his feet. Oh and his knife and gun should not be forgotten. Years later I am afraid of a penis.

I do know that not everyone with a penis would hurt me. I also know that few with a penis would be interested. I should have been flattered that someone so young and cute would pay me attention in a sleazy bathroom kind of way. Not in a self esteem boosting kind of way.

The longer I refrain from dating the fear and panic grows. This is a far cry from my addiction days when there was a penis or two afraid of me. I miss affection and I would like to have someone to hold and to hold me. I have some very good friends but I need more. I am not sure if my needs or my panic will win out. I find it curious that after an event that triggers my fear I am reminded that I wish I could have what I fear. One day I may meet someone I can trust and enjoy physical contact. Here's to hope.

[Milkman (imported)]

I am intact and am afraid of restroom sex.. when I was younger , I would risk it, but now I am horrified since it stigmatizes the public image of gay men... I had a similar incident in the New Haven train station last week... Ugh!!

[tugon (imported)]

I am a little nervous tonight because tomorrow I will be a pallbearer. The gentleman I have provided care for I will carry tomorrow. His death was not easy but today I do hope he finds peace. Oh and when my patient dies so does my job.

He was my great uncle and I think part of the reason I took the job was for insight to my family. When you grow up in an alcoholic home much is not discussed. He lived in the same town but I never met him until I began to provide care. I was surprised that he knew so little of his siblings and all his stories were based on him. He was the center of his universe. He knew very little of his sister my paternal grandmother. He knew nothing of her son my father. He never called me nephew or treated me well. I broke a promise to myself not to let family or anyone mistreat me but I thought the knowledge gained might be worth the tradeoff. I was wrong.

Sadly I have nothing good to say about him tomorrow but luckily I share space with a bright young man. Since I can not think of anything good to say he suggested I talk about things he enjoyed. Thanks Plix. I will be wearing black tomorrow and my best mourning face. Oh and I am glad black is slimming.

My plans after the funeral will be my need for several days of solitude. I want to be alone with my thoughts. I want to have to face myself and decide what I want for this next stage of my life. I may go down by the Ohio River and watch the boats. I hope it is cold and rains. I would love to be chilled to the bone. If I am giving severance pay I may fly to Quebec City where I feel more alive than anywhere else. I just need to feel.

I know I am lucky to have all that I have. A nice home, a good friend and roommate. Other good friends spread about the country. A little security during these times of joblessness. I just need a little time with me and then I will be back home to the people I care about and would do anything for in this world.

[Danya (imported)]

Dear Tugon,

My thoughts are with you as you move through this next stage of your life. It sounds like you have the right attitude and I'm glad you are taking time to take care of yourself.

Hugs,

Danya

[houndstooth (imported)]

I've read your posts for years, and only registered recently so I could share thoughts with people whose shoulders I've peeked over anonymously.

All my most heartfelt & best wishes go out to you today, tug, although you don't know me from any stranger on the street. And I'm sure there are more unspoken/unwritten/unposted thoughts just like this.

[tugon (imported)]

I have a strange memory that is accompanied by a dream. The memory has always been with me but the dream is becoming more frequent. I am trying not to interpret it myself and want to share it without any embellishment as I remember it and the dream portrays the event.

One evening I was awake in bed. I remember something was wrong. I tried to get up but my legs felt very stiff like my knees would not bend. All of a sudden mom was there and I am not sure if I had called for her. I remember her picking me up in her arms and taking me to the bathroom. As she drew my bath she had to pull down my pajama bottoms that were stuck to my skin. In the memory of the event I have no idea why they were stuck to me for the length of my legs. I do not remember being sick. After the warm bath my legs felt better and I put on fresh pajamas and went to bed. I do not remember any of my emotions.

In the dream I was aware of the fear and panic my mother had for herself and for me. I of course always feared my father. She wanted to make sure I was cleaned up before dad came home. In the dream I thought blood was part of what was sticking to my skin. In the dream I remembered dad went out to a bar and would be home. I remember more in the dream than I do from memory. Again I have no memory of how I felt.

While still living with dad the only feelings I remember were fear and anxiety. I remember being empathetic with others. I could feel happy, sad, and other emotions for them but felt nothing for me.

As I have become happier and my true self as a eunuch I am troubled by the past. My struggles now are with my childhood and memories coming to my conscious mind. I am not sure if this was the event of a sick child or if something bad had happened. I miss the days of almost no childhood memories. I would like to go to bed and not dream. Maybe one day remembering will help but I am not sure I want to remember.

[tugon (imported)]

Sometimes it just hits me how different I am without T. Last night I made dinner, set the table using a nice table cloth but not the Irish linen, and after dinner enjoyed cleaning up. As I was cleaning up and loading the dishwasher I looked out at my dining area and living room. I realized how important home had become for me.

A sense of peace settled in as I looked at the art on the walls. The connection with ancestors as I imagined them using the antiques that are now in my care for the next family recipients. Glass lamps that were made generations ago here in my hometown. All of these things have surrounded me and made our apartment feel like home.

This sense of home, my joy in preparing meals and new interior design interests for me have developed since my loss of T. I certainly know others who have the same attitudes I now have as intact males. For me it just hit me last night how deep those feelings are. It is not that things are important to me but the connections I have with others by having them.

The pots I used to cook in I originally bought for the time Brian and I would be together. Even though that never happened I could remember the hope I felt and the dreams we shared. I used some salt and olive oil that Arturo left behind for me. Of course sharing the meal and conversation with a friend is most enjoyable.

If my home is a reflection of me I like what I see. I am glad to be a eunuch and to be so full of feelings. Each passing year I find a deeper eunuch peace. Peace be to all.

[houndstooth (imported)]

Nice thoughts, and maybe a little bit melancholy at this time of year. But then autumn always did bring that out in me when DST hit. Our lives aren't about things, but about people, our connections to them and our place in the world, as you say here.

Even though I don't think I say it enough, I appreciate you & Danya & Uncle Flo & Mac & everybody else here. It's the people who make EA what it is and I feel less alone in the world just knowing other folks share a common interest & insights. And after all of these years not taking the last step in removing these two little troublesome trifles, I'm looking into a doctor to complete what I should have done years ago now that I can afford it.

Let the countdown begin! Cheers.